


sacrifice the email, scratch my head

by merelyans



Series: Catboys AU [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bokuto is basically a dog in cat form, Cat/Human Hybrids, Catboy Bokuto, M/M, dear god someone help kuroo, wrote this while dealing with a needy cat and it shows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29695314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyans/pseuds/merelyans
Summary: Kuroo needs to send an email to his boss, but Koutarou has other plans.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: Catboys AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152503
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	sacrifice the email, scratch my head

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4 of HQ Catboy Week
> 
> Prompt: **Clingy/Needy** | Bells

“Kou, I swear to god get off of me,” Kuroo mutters, spitting cat hair out of his mouth, swatting Koutarou’s hand away as the (giant, mind you) cat tries to crawl into his lap. “Please. I’m-” He saves his laptop from closing with a terrified gasp. “I’m trying to send an email.”

“I love emails!” Koutarou spins around and presses his finger down on the h button, a steady line of h’s spreading across Kuroo’s screen. “I’m great at helping.”

“Kou, please,” Kuroo grabs his hands, nearly having a heart attack when the cursor lingers over the ‘send’ button. “I’ll play with you in a second, just wait for me to send this email, okay?”

Koutarou pouts and slowly climbs out of Kuroo’s lap, opting to stand next to the laptop and curiously watch as Kuroo’s fingers type out strings of words, deleting entire paragraphs, and rewrite them. He stares over Kuroo’s shoulder, a little unnerving in how close he is, how Kuroo can hear his breathing, head cocked to the side. If Kuroo didn’t have all the paperwork as proof, he might have thought Koutarou was a very cat-like dog.

But no, he’s just a very, _very,_ active cat. A cat that likes to go for walks, yowl at all hours of the night, tackle and bat at every other cat and dog he sees in pure excitement that he gets to meet a new friend, scratches up the furniture to get Kuroo’s attention, etc etc. Kuroo loves him, more than anything, but sometimes he’s just too much, too loud, too playful, too… clingy. Like he needs Kuroo’s attention one hundred percent of the time instead of being independent like most cats.

“Are you done yet?” Koutarou mews, swishing his tail into Kuroo’s face. Kuroo sputters, a flurry of cat hair coating his tongue and lips, and Kuroo finishes the second of seven paragraphs.

“Not yet, if you want to go ahead and start picking out your favorite toys, I’ll be there in a second,” Koutarou wiggles his tail again, trying to tempt him. “Koutarou, please, just give me a minute.”

Koutarou freezes. Kuroo _never_ uses his full name. Not unless he’s scratched up the furniture while chasing around specs of dust or the laser pointer or if he’s scratched up the furniture.

“Are we not doing pets today?” Koutarou asks slowly, guiltily, golden eyes wavering into something more coppery. 

“We are, after we play,” Kuroo answers, accidentally typing the words into his email, scowling and backspacing in frustration. “I promise.”

“But that’s so far away,” Koutarou whines, taking a seat next to Kuroo and resting his head on his shoulder, his ears jamming themselves into Kuroo’s neck. 

And why does he have to be so damn fuzzy? He’s lucky he isn’t allergic to cats, because Koutarou sheds like nobody’s business, Kuroo and Koutarou switching off vacuuming once or twice a week in order to keep up. Kenma’s cat doesn’t shed as much, but Iwaizumi had said that his cat sheds a lot and gets embarrassed about it. Oikawa makes jokes that his outfits aren’t complete unless they’re covered in his cat’s fur, silvery patches only proving his point. 

But Koutarou? 

Kuroo cannot brush him enough, can’t keep up, can’t do his laundry enough to get rid of the hair and the smell of Koutarou’s cat shampoo, which smells strongly of lavender and Kuroo would be fine with that, too, except Koutarou is one of those weird cats that loves taking baths and showers, using the shampoo as much as he can.

He became nose blind to the scent long ago, his sense of smell permanently screwed up and constantly full of wild lavender.

Koutarou bunts his cheek, and Kuroo has to shake him off, typing out this month’s progress report to his boss, the only time he interacts with her directly, Kuroo being the only member of his team brave enough to write it out, send it, and get the first glimpse at the response. Everything needs to be perfect, and Koutarou knows how important these emails are. Or, at least he should. Kuroo’s stressed out over enough of them that he’s conditioned himself into getting nauseated every time he opens his inbox.

He starts the fourth paragraph, and Koutarou starts swatting at his sleeve, eyes wide and cheeks puffed out in concentration. Kuroo gives him a small warning side-glance, and Koutarou’s movements dwindle until he’s sitting almost entirely still, tapping his fingers on his thighs.

“Laser pointer today?” Kuroo idly asks after a moment of silence, the room growing stale with just the sound of him clacking away at his keyboard. 

“I’ll get that red dot,” Koutarou’s pupils blow open. “I’m going to catch it today.”

“I’m sure you will,” Kuroo smiles, turning his head, reaching up to give Koutarou a quick scratch on his hairline. 

Koutarou leans into the touch, completely blissed out as his second set of eyelids start to poke out, the corners of his mouth curling into pure content. His purrs start to fill the room, and Kuroo brings his hand back to his keyboard, shaking the excess fur off of his fingers. Koutarou’s eyes go wide, looking directly at Kuroo’s hand as he continues typing.

“Why’d you stop?”

“To finish my email,” Kuroo hums, looking at the statistics his coworkers have sent. “You’ll get more when I’m done.”

Koutarou groans, and falls into Kuroo’s lap, his weight crushing Kuroo’s legs. Kuroo yelps, hands in the air, and Koutarou drapes himself over Kuroo’s thighs, looking entirely uncomfortable. 

“Kou,” Kuroo starts, voice low. “I can’t work like this.”

“Yes you can,” He mumbles into Kuroo’s pajama pants. “You’ve done it before.”

“Well,” Kuroo bites the inside of his cheek. “Are you comfortable?”

“No, so hurry up and finish,” Koutarou punctuates his complaint with a small wiggle. “I wanna spend time with you. I miss you when you’re at work, Tetsu.”

“I know,” Kuroo rests his hand on Koutarou’s back, which arches, tail happily perking up as he brings his fingers down Koutarou’s spine. “Just give me a second, alright? I know you want to play, but I have to work first. I’d rather be on the couch watching a movie with you, believe me.”

“Promise?” His tail whacks Kuroo in the face.

“I promise,” Kuroo swats the tail out of his face, stretching his arms out uncomfortably as he reaches for his keyboard. 

Typing comes easier as the conclusion nears, and Koutarou starts batting a rolled up sock he found under the bed back and forth in his hands, waiting patiently for Kuroo to finish. Kuroo’s gotta give him props for being so patient, as well as to himself for not giving in so easily. He only has one soft spot, and it’s cat-shaped, two toned with grey and black, and covered in cat fur.

A few sentences left, and Koutarou is humming something, crawling off of Kuroo’s lap in favor of sitting in the one sunbeam that’s worked its way into the office, pressing his fingers into the tiny rainbow that it casts. Kuroo huffs in short amusement, shaking his head lightly as Koutarou becomes enamored with lining up the rainbow to perfectly cover his hand.

Three sentences left, and Kuroo is in the zone, the words flowing easily as Koutarou moves closer to play with the hem of his sweats. Two sentences, and he’s resting his head on Kuroo’s thigh, staring up at him with the brightest, most expectant eyes, as if trying to guilt him into stopping everything and finishing later. It almost works. And as he writes the last sentence, Koutarou is nearly vibrating in excitement, Kuroo typing with one hand as his left runs between Koutarou’s ears.

He hits the last key, reads it over, fixes a few grammar errors, changes a few to’s to too’s, reads it over again, and hits send. The brief drop of his stomach passes as it sends, and settles out when the little “successful” note pops up, his eyes immediately falling onto the catboy that’s gotten more and more into his lap.

“Are you done now?” Koutarou asks innocently, knowing full well that Kuroo’s free.

Kuroo checks one more time that it’s sent, closes his laptop, and Koutarou bounces off of his lap, scurrying into the living room to pick out his favorite toys and movie. Kuroo shakes his head, grinning, brushing cat hair off of his clothes, and moves into the other room to sit down on the couch, Koutarou fit between his legs on the floor, waiting for Kuroo to run his hands through his fur the way he likes it.

And he wouldn’t want it any other way.


End file.
